Monday, September 21, 2009

The Gift: Unwilling Art

I am writing this for myself. And you. Of course, I always write for you.

Still, this week I'm working on a bigger writing project. And I need to remember Hyde's words, "There are at least two phases in the completion of a work of art, one in which the will is suspended and another in which it is active. The suspension is primary. It is when the will is slack that we feel moved or we are struck by an event, intuition, or image."

Sometimes, when I feel pressured, like this week, I want to prematurely move into the "will" stage. I want to force my way onto the page. I begin to feel nervous. (What shall I say to this crowd? Will it be profound, memorable, amusing, interesting... oh, anything worthy at all?)

Right now, I am trying to remind myself of the importance of play. I have the passage I'm speaking on. I have a few words that are calling to me from that passage. I need to scribble them, draw them, dream them, flip them. Play.

Maybe I try to live in suspension. And if anything comes out of that, well and good. I hope something does. But I just try to live in that in-between place of receiving from God and trying to "get it" myself. Then maybe I'll have something to share from there.

The one thing I've learned about writing is that as much as it has to do with what's going on inside you, there's just a lot of it that is beyond my control. I've also learned that the suspended will is just as productive as the active one. I've learned that, mind you. But very often I forget what I've learned...